


Accident and Crushes

by pleaseactsurprisedxx



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Accidents, Christmas, Emergency Vet, F/F, Famous Beca Mitchell, Fluff, Ten Years Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28187022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleaseactsurprisedxx/pseuds/pleaseactsurprisedxx
Summary: Beca Mitchell is driving around Atlanta on Christmas Eve by herself. She accidentally runs over a dog, and rushes it to an emergency vet when the owner isn’t home. Not being able to break the news of the injured animal over the phone, she drives to the address on the dog’s tags. In a twisting turn of events, a very shocked Chloe Beale invites Beca to spend Christmas with her.This is in a world where PP1 happened, but PP2 and PP3 did not. Beca left Barden after her first year to go to LA and Chloe actually graduated when she was supposed to. Beca lost touch with almost everyone from Barden over the years. Ten years after the first movie.
Relationships: Chloe Beale & Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 6
Kudos: 106





	Accident and Crushes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [22_Ti](https://archiveofourown.org/users/22_Ti/gifts).



> And here is the actual gift! I hope you enjoy it. It came out a lot softer than I intended, but I suppose it is okay since the holiday season is a time for softness. Merry Christmas 22_Ti! 
> 
> I've really enjoyed getting to know you over the past few weeks. Hope your holiday season is as awesome as you are.

It’s Christmas Eve, and internationally renowned music producer, Beca Mitchell, is driving around Atlanta in a rental car looking at Christmas lights and feeling rather sorry for herself. She flew in to visit with her father for the holidays, but something with Sheila’s family came up last minute, and that was apparently more important than his only daughter. She could have flown back to LA; there was one ticket left for the last flight out, but something about being alone in her big house seemed more depressing than driving around aimlessly by herself in a town that she once knew so well. 

Of course, it is a lot chillier here in Georgia than LA, and she is bundled up in several layers. A black beanie pulled snugly on her head and black scarf bunched around her neck, and the lower part of her face. The heater in the car is running full blast, and she is still so cold. “Ugh, why is it so cold? We are in the south!” She exclaims to the empty car about the same time the radio started playing one of her newer songs she produced. It has been the hit of the year.  **Click!** She turns it off completely. “Absolutely not,” she mutters to herself again, reminding her how lonely she actually is. 

She is in a total grinchy mood. And it's not even that she hates Christmas time. Well, she used to not hate it. Despite her parents’ messy divorce, her mom always made sure she had a great Christmas, even after her dad pretty much abandoned them. Their place was always a winter wonderland filled with decorating and baking and cheesy traditions Beca would pretend to hate secretly loved. Her mom died five years ago, and it hasn’t been the same without her. She doesn’t have any close friends, spending the last ten years clawing her way to the top. Her relationship with her father has gotten better over the years, but it is still awkward and he always chooses Sheila’s kids over her. She should be used to it by now, but it doesn’t hurt any less. So, yes, this time of the year sucks. It’s a constant reminder she put her career above any sort of relationship, any real connection with a human. She has been a revolving door of one night stands.

The lights she is originally here to find blur into the background. She is hoping to find some sort of holiday cheer instead of a bout of seasonal depression she is desperately not wanting to crawl into this year, that is why had tried to make plans with her father. But really it all seems so helpless. Lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice a large, black lab dart in the road in time. She slams on her brakes, making them screech, but it is a fruitless effort. The vehicle jerks, followed by a giant  **thud** , and then the unmistakable squeal of an injured animal. 

“No, No, NO!” Beca says covering her hand over her face. “No, puppy,” she says in a girlish tone, that even she is surprised that it comes out of her mouth. She is in a sleepy suburban neighborhood. It’s eight o’clock at night. She absolutely blames Christmas even though she knows it's illogical. She puts the vehicle in park, and sheepishly gets out to check on the animal. He keeps trying to get up but everytime he does he gesticulates in pain. It’s obvious his back leg is broken, and no telling what other injuries the poor guy has. 

Beca calmly approaches the dog. Even with it being hurt, he doesn’t seem aggressive. She slowly inches towards him, softly muttering reassurances. She lets him sniff her hand, and when she is pretty sure the dog won’t attack her, pats his head. “It’s okay, boy. I’m going to get you help. Just let me check your collar okay, pretty boy?” The tag read, ‘Hi, my name is Bella. I like to dig out of my outside kennel.’ On the back there is a phone number and address. 

“Shit, it is right there,” there are no cars in the driveway, and all the lights are out in the house. 

“Okay, boy--I mean girl, stay there, I’ll be right back.” She dashes across the year, her breath comes out in puffs from the cold. She bangs on the front door. No movement. No sounds. No nothing. She frantically runs back to her and slowly approaches Bella, who is laying in the middle of the pavement, a soft whining emitting from her throat. 

“It’s okay, girl. I’m going to get you help. I’m going to have to pick you up, and it’s going to suck...for both of us. I’m gonna need you to not eat my face off, please!?” Bella looks up with big brown eyes still whimpering in pain. Beca takes off her over coat and lays it down. She tries to gently wrap the dog with it. She starts to pick her up, and besides some whimpers and squeal, Bella lets her.  _ God, this dog weighs almost as much as I do.  _ She struggles to get the dog in the back seat, but after much exertion, finally succeeds.    
  
She dashes to start the vehicle. 

“Siri, call the nearest emergency vet.” 

“Calling Atlanta Vet hospital,” Siri replies moments later in her robotic voice. 

After sitting through a rather large queue, finally a less than enthused person answers, “Atlanta Vet Hospital.” 

“Yes, I just ran over someone’s dog. She seems hurt pretty bad. I have her in my car. On my way now.” 

“We can take her, but just know that with it being holiday time, it is fairly expensive, and you will have to pay up front,” the receptionist replies lifelessly. 

“I don’t care about the cost.” 

“Okay, when you’re pulling in, call, and someone will meet you at the front.” 

“Thanks,” She ends the call. “Siri, directions to Atlanta animal hospital.” 

“Directing,” Siri responds. 

Beca looks in the rear-view mirror. “It will be okay, pretty girl. I’m getting you some help.” Bella responds with a pathetic whimper.

* * *

She waits for two hours. She knows she should call the number, but it’s not really news one wants to give over the phone, especially over Christmas Eve. Finally, news is given on Bella’s condition. One of her back legs shattered, and her hip was dislocated. No internal bleeding, but she will need surgery and will have to stay for a few days. The owner can come and visit on the 26th, but they are closed to the general public tomorrow, only in emergency situations new animals will be accepted. 

Once the very long and  _ expensive  _ vet trip is completed, Beca still hasn’t called the number. She knows it is late, a little after eleven, but she can’t handle the thought of someone missing their animal on Christmas Eve, or waiting for it to come back. She sighs in the cold interior of her vehicle, and turns the heat to blast as she remorsefully drives back to the dog’s address. 

Now a powder blue coupe is in the driveway and several lights are still on inside the house. She makes herself walk to the door. After a minute of hesitation, she purses her lips and finally knocks. Several moments later it swings open. A redhead answers the door with questions etched all over her face.  _ Wait... I know this redhead. _

Auburn eyebrows raise in shock, before her entire face melts into a smile. “Beca Mitchell!” The woman exclaims. 

“C-Chloe? Is that you?”  _ Not just any dog. Of course, you hit the dog that belongs to your biggest crush ever! _

Chloe responds by pulling the smaller woman into a comforting embrace, wrapping her arms around her neck. Beca’s hands naturally wrap around Chloe’s waist, like her hands belong on the small of her back. Beca can’t remember the last person that physically touched her, so she allows herself to melt into it instead of pulling back like her instincts would normally tell her to do. Chloe is warm and still smells like cinnamon and honey, even after all these years. 

“What are you doing here?” She asks, pulling away from the hug, but staying close into Beca's personal space. Beca slowly removes her hands from Chloe’s body, begrudgingly, while Chloe grasps Beca’s shoulder with one hand. 

“I--um, I was just in the area and looked you up,” Beca lies in a panic.  _ How do I tell her I put her dog in the hospital...on Christmas Eve??  _ Beca can’t make contact with the baby blue eyes she desperately wants to.  _ No, wait, don’t do that. Don’t lie to Chloe...to anyone about their precious pet.  _

“Oh, my God, come in. It’s freezing. I just got home. I work crazy hours! I’m a vet at an all hours clinic,” Chloe rambles while pulling Beca into her home.  _ Great! I not only injured Chloe Beale’s dog, but she is a vet to boot. _ Beca is immediately hit in the face with warmth breaking herself from her internal panic. There is a fireplace in the middle of the living room with a cozy fire burning. Beca’s face tingles as it melts away the cold. 

“Please have a seat,” Chloe offers as she sits down on a black leather couch. 

Beca awkwardly sits on the far end away from Chloe. Her knees turn towards each other and clack together, “Actually, Chloe, I I-lied-I’m so sorry.” 

Chloe’s cheery disposition melts away and her body forms into a defensive position with her arms crossed her chest, “So, what’s up?” She asks, her eyebrow quirked up. 

“I-I came to this address, because I hit a black lab with my car earlier tonight.” Chloe gasps as Beca tries to explain with her arms raised and moving in a flurry of nervous motions. “She is going to be fine, I swear. And I paid for everything and I will pay for anything in the future She might need. I’m so so sorry,” Beca rushes out, her words bleeding together. 

“Just slow down and explain. What are Bella’s injuries? What happened?” Chloe asks with a lot more composition than Beca could have anticipated. 

“She ran out in front of my car. I tried to stop. I swear.” 

“Beca, I know you didn’t hit my dog on purpose. Don’t apologize.” 

“Well, the hospital said her back left leg is shattered, and her hip is dislocated. She will need surgery,” Beca explains. 

“Oh, my God! My poor baby. She is probably so scared,” Chloe quietly sobs and puts her face in her hands. 

“I’m so sorry!” 

“I already told you don’t apologize,” Chloe looks up with a few tears falling down her face. 

“Please don't cry.”  _ I really hate it when girls cry, especially Chloe. I always hated disappointing her. “ _ They promised me she would be fine, but she will need surgery. She was getting prepped when I left. Said they would call with updates.” 

“Oh my god, I need to go be with her,” Chloe stands up, and Beca follows right behind her. 

“You can’t Chloe. Closed to visitors until after the holidays. Said she would need a few days to recover, but you can go visit her the day after Christmas. Plus it is almost midnight on Christmas Eve.”   
  
“Well, look around Beca, it’s not like I have people to spend it with,” Chloe says with clenched teeth. 

_ How is Chloe Beale alone on Christmas?  _

“My work schedule has been hectic. I couldn’t plan to go home to Florida this year,” Chloe explains with being prompted. “My close friends have their own family. Did you know that Aubrey and Stacie just had their third child? Can you believe it?”

“Three kids? That’s amazing,” Beca tries to say enthusiastically while her mind races with the rapid conversation change. 

“I can’t believe I won’t be able to see Bella until after Christmas. All my plans involve me and Bella cuddling on the couch watching cheesy Christmas movies,” She says, biting the bottom part of her lip. 

“I feel so bad, Chlo,” the old nickname slipping from her lips.  _ How did I let myself lose touch with her? _

“Beca, accidents happen. Some people would have just hit her and ran. You took her to the hospital and paid for it. Please, don’t feel bad. Please, stop saying sorry.” 

“Okay,” Beca mumbles, her fingers tapping on her upper thighs. The air feels thick between them as silence rings out around them. 

Chloe gets up and starts to pace, “I’m going to call them.”

“I don’t think there is anything you can d-” 

“I’m calling them,” she cuts Beca off and starts dialing a number on her phone. 

“Yes, this is Dr. Beale. My dog, Bella, was hit by a car, and the driver brought her in. I was told she needed surgery. I want to know what is going on, and why I can’t be with my dog.” Chloe says in a formal voice, hand perched on her hip. After several minutes of back and forth between her and the multiple staff members on the phone, Chloe finally wishes them a Happy Holidays and hangs up the phone. 

Chloe sighs, “I volunteer a Saturday a month to those people. You would think the professional courtesy would have been easier to get. They won’t let me come in tonight. Bella is already sedated. They will call me after surgery. After she wakes up, I can come and visit for a little bit tomorrow. 

“I’m glad they will allow you to see her sooner.” 

“I’m sure you have somewhere to be, being Beca Mitchell and all on Christmas Eve. Please don’t let me keep you,” Chloe announces, wiping at her face.    
  
Beca stares shyly at her feet. “Actually, I really don’t.”

“What do you mean?”   
  
“I mean I have no friends and I drove out to Atlanta to see my father and he canceled on me last minute to be with Sheila’s family.” 

“Stay here?” Chloe blurts. 

Beca raises her head, shuffling her weight from foot to foot. “Are you sure, Chloe?”   
  


“Of course, I’m sure. Please stay,” Chloe asks again, eyes burning into Beca, but she blames her body flushing on the fire. Beca nods her head yes in lieu of a response. 

Chloe emits a squeal of excitement. “We can decorate! I haven’t had the time. I’ve been working all the time.” 

“It’s--It’s been a long time since I decorated a tree,” Beca offers awkwardly, left hand rubbing the back of her neck. 

“You want to?” The redhead asks with excitement twinkling in her eyes. “I have all the stuff. Just didn’t seem important to drag them out for just me. But it’s not every day Beca Mitchell is in your living room asking to decorate a tree.” 

“Please don’t tell me your star struck?” Beca asks with a smirk, feeling confident for the first time that evening. 

“I’ll guess you just have to see, Ms. Seven-Time Grammy Winning Producer,” Chloe winks, and bites her lip again. 

Beca flushes again _. So much for confidence. All it took was for her to wink at you. Pathetic.  _ “Yeah, I go by Beca for short.” 

Chloe giggles for the first time that night. “Well, all the stuff is in the attic. Let’s go,” Chloe encourages. Grabbing Beca’s wrist leading her. Beca lets her while trying to ignore the burning Chloe's touch is leaving on her skin. 

* * *

A couple of trips into Chloe’s  _ creepy _ attic later, and several boxes are littered across her living room floor. Beca looks around overwhelmed. “Don’t worry, Beca. We won’t unpack all the knick-knacks, just the lights, tree, and ornaments.” 

“I’ll go through the boxes and find the lights and ornaments. Would you start one of my holiday vinyl's, and warm some milk on the stove? I have some hot cocoa bombs we can use.” Chloe asks, already opening boxes just labeled “Christmas” with no further descriptor. 

“Yes, Ma’am.” Beca replies, shrugging off her hoodie, putting it with her scarf and jacket she already discarded after the first attic trip. She approaches the vintage record player and what is an impressive record collection. Beca whistles in appreciation. “Damn, Beale. This is nice.” 

Chloe looks up from the box she was inspecting, “Oh, yeah, someone my senior year of college taught me music sounds better on vinyl.” Chloe winks again, making Beca’s knees  **weak** . Beca clears her throat and grabs one with snow covered trees called “50 Greatest songs of Christmas.” She gently pulls the first record out, placing it down, and setting the needle to the third track, “Deck the Halls.” The scratchy grain of the vinyl  **pops** through the speakers before cheerful voices ring out. 

She chances a glance back at Chloe digging through boxes, before walking into the kitchen. She grabs the milk out of the fridge before she starts opening cabinets until she finds the bombs, two mugs, a measuring cup, and a pot. As she is pouring the milk, she gets hit with a feeling of surrealism, when it registers that she is standing in **Chloe Beale’s** house, helping her decorate, on Christmas eve. She glances at her oversized, black round Rado watch. _It’s 12:03._ _It’s Christmas. I’m spending Christmas with Chloe._ She reminisces of her short time at Barden and with the Bellas. Time she spent crushing on Chloe, but choosing the corny movie loving Jesse instead. A decision that really didn’t matter since she broke up with him weeks later and fled to LA. Her father kept up his end of the deal, so she left Atlanta and with an unceremonious goodbye to everyone. She kept in touch for the first year or two, but anytime she spoke with Chloe, it just reminded her what she left, even though her career was taking off at the point. She eventually just stopped returning phone calls and lost touch with everyone. The milk starting to bubble over breaks her out of her day dream. 

“Hey, Chloe, this is ready.”

“Okay, coming.” Beca carefully unwraps the foil from the hot cocoa bombs and drops them in the yellow ceramic mugs. Chloe enters the room with a Santa hat on her head, another hanging loosely in her hand. “I have the tree set up. It still needs fluffed, but it's a smaller tree. I have the lights and ornaments set out. So, after our hot chocolate we can decorate and put the stuff away. Then watch a cheesy movie with popcorn?”    
  
“I’m down for whatever you want to do Chloe. It sure as hell beats driving around feeling sorry for myself.” 

“Even wearing the hat?” She offers up the red and white item. 

“Really?” Beca purses her lips. 

“Please?” Chloe asks eyes wide, jutting out her lower lip.

Beca rolls her eyes, “Fine.” 

This makes Chloe's face split into a smile as she situates the hat atop brunette tresses. 

“Ooh, hold on I have a couple of candy canes we can stir the cocoa with.” She digs through a bowl on her kitchen table, before coming to stand beside Beca, unwrapping the candy. 

Beca carefully starts to pour the milk into the cups. Steam lifts as the round balls of chocolate start to bob. Chloe places the red and white striped canes into the cups. Each girl takes a mug, and starts to poke and stir at the now chocolate blobs. Multi-colored marshmallows explode into the liquid. 

“These are really neat,” Beca says just to break the silence that had settled around them.

“Yes, they are. Let’s go do the tree!” Chloe says, her voice filled with child-like enthusiasm. Enthusiasm that is starting to actually rub off on the burly brunette.  _ She always did get that reaction from you.  _

They sip on hot cocoa and fluff the small four foot tree. They string the clear lights around the limbs next; they catch up with each other’s current lives as they do so, both ignoring the topic of Beca basically ghosting everyone. They carefully hang delicate ornaments until they run out. Finally, Chloe grabs a step stool, and with Beca’s help, strings the room with the leftover multi-colored lights. She steps down from the stool with a smile as bright as the Christmas tree. 

“Look at our handiwork, Becs! I can’t believe I almost didn’t decorate.” She says doing a twirl around her now decorated living room. The pom-pom from her hat and her long red curls spinning around. 

“This was really fun, Chloe. Like really,” Beca says, her tone lacking her usual hint of sarcasm. She looks at Chloe twinkling under the lights and it makes her want to grab the redhead and kiss her, but she stops herself.  _ That would be a terrible idea, Mitchell.  _

“I had fun too. Now it’s time to clean up. Then if you will make us some popcorn, I’ll make a pallet and we can watch a holiday movie.” 

After the extra boxes are put away in the attic and the dirty mugs are put in the sink, Chloe gets to work building a fort over the total expanse of the living room floor. She scoured her house for every pillow and blanket available. Beca comes back in with popcorn and two beers as Chloe places the last pillow down.    
  
“This should be comfy.” Chloe states at her own work. 

“Looks like it,” Beca chuckles.  _ Well, that was lame.  _

“Any movie requests?”   
  
“Still not a fan, but I’m glad to watch whatever you want.”    
  
“Okay, then, hmmmmm,” she taps her lips as she thinks and her eyes brighten when she suggests, ‘Mistletoe & Menorahs.’

Chloe elegantly lowers herself down to the floor, “Oh, I forgot. I will get you some jammies.” Chloe pauses, sounding shy for the first time that night, “Um, if you want that is.” 

“I--my bag is out in my car,” Beca offers. 

“Well, go get it, silly.” Chloe says as lounges back in her oversized sweater, and black leggings that cling to her defined legs.  _ She definitely still works out.  _

* * *

The movie stopped an hour ago, and they are laying on their backs in the middle of the plush pallet. All lights are turned off with the exception of the tree and Christmas lights strung around the room. The fire  **crackling** in the fireplace and the scratchy sound of the record player in the background has been the only noise for the past twenty minutes or so; their conversation lulled naturally. 

“Thank you,” Beca breaks the silence, “For everything tonight. If you wouldn’t have invited me here, I would have gone to a big empty hotel room, and probably drowned myself in some bourbon.”

“You’re welcome, Beca. I’m glad neither of us had to spend it alone.” She turns to stare at the younger girl, “You know, I had the hugest crush on you back at Barden,” Chloe admits. Beca can feel the blaze warm her skin. But it is _definitely_ the sexy redhead staring at her with a twinkle in her eyes that is making her blush right now.

“Shut up! You did not,” Beca sputters in embarrassment.  _ I don’t think you realize how much I would have never left if you told me that back then.  _

“I knew if I would have told you, you wouldn’t go out there and follow your dreams. I know you hated college. I know you still wanted to go to LA despite…” Chloe trails off.  _ Maybe you knew me better than I thought.  _ “Despite everything, so I let you go, no matter how much it killed me back then. But yes, the hugest school girl crush. You can’t imagine how much it annoyed Bree back then,” Chloe chuckles, eyes never leaving Beca’s face. 

After what feels like the longest silence in human history, Beca finally whispers, “I really liked you too, Chloe.” 

“I won’t ask you why you left, because I do understand. But why did you lose touch?” Chloe asks, finally moving her head to not look at Beca anymore, opting to stare holes in the ceiling instead. 

“Because I was a fucking idiot that let my career get in my way of me having any sort of life or happiness outside of it. Now look at me, I didn’t even have anyone to spend Christmas with, Chlo.”

Chloe looks back at the brunette, “You have me, Beca.” She slowly stretches her hand through the empty space between their bodies and laces her fingers with Beca. 

Beca can feel her entire body flush, and she is suddenly conscious about how sweaty her hands are. She wants to pull away, just to wipe them off, but she can’t bring herself to break away from Chloe.

They gaze into each other’s eyes: midnight blue meeting sky blue. A lull in conversation happens again but now it’s filled with a staticky tension. It ripples in waves between the two, making Beca’s next words stick in her throat for a minute before she could pry them loose. 

“You have no idea how much this night means to me. Even under the bad circumstances that brought us together. Even after I was a total dick and just let everyone...let you slip away.” 

Chloe quickly closes the gap of space, and the tension that has been building since she first answered the door is  **crackling** between them, louder than the wood in the fire. Chloe hesitates just long enough to give Beca time to pull away if she wants too. Beca doesn’t move at all, staring intensely in the bright blue eyes that she didn’t realize she has missed so much. Chloe is close enough that Beca inhales her breath before closing the gap the rest of the way to softly press their lips together. It is feather light at first, small pecks that shouldn’t feel so good, but still make lips tingle. Pecks that grow longer, wetter, and more frantic as Chloe grasps Beca’s face. Now, instead of lightly, mouths push together, teeth clashing, tongues slipping. Beca wraps her arms around Chloe’s neck and pulls her weight on top of her, deepening the kiss. A small mmmm emits from her throat as Chloe’s tongue battles for dominance inside her mouth. 

They continue at this pace, sharing intense passionate kisses. Beca’s hands trail up Chloe’s abdomen under sweater. Just as she grasps Chloe’s perky breasts, her nipples hardening in Beca’s palms, a phone ringing startles the two girls. Chloe scrambles off of Beca to answer it.

“Beale,” she answers breathlessly as she runs her hands through her messy hair. “Oh my god, thank you. That is such good news. Is she awake? Anyway you would let me video call, so I could see her. Okay thank you so much.” The facetime ring blares out of her phone and Chloe accepts. “Hey, Bella girl,” Chloe coos in a high pitched voice. “How ya feeling baby? Such a brave girl. Momma will be there to see you tomorrow.” Bella’s tail wags gently, before the phone screen goes blank. 

“My poor baby,” Chloe pouts. 

“Is she okay?” Beca asks meekly.

“She pulled through just fine. Just woke up from sedation. They will let me come in from 1-2 to see her tomorrow. Will probably be able to bring her home on the 26th. I just would feel better if I could be there with her.” 

Beca opens her mouth, and places her finger across her lips, “Don’t you dare say sorry again.” 

Beca nods, “Okay. You’re right. Sooo…” 

Chloe giggles, “Soooo…?” 

“Um,” Beca clears her throat. “Do you um maybe want to continue that or?” Beca trails off. 

“What if we just cuddle? I’m kind of glad that phone call came in when it did. We might have got carried away, and I can’t handle the heartbreak of Beca Mitchell leaving me again.” 

“I don’t want to leave you again,” Beca says, reaching out for the redhead. 

“You can’t possibly know that after just a few hours,” Chloe responds skeptically. 

“Let me prove it to you, then.” Beca answers while closing the space between them again with a soft kiss. “Let me hold you.” 

* * *

Beca awakes the next morning, her body wrapped around  **Chloe Beale’s.** _ I guess Christmas Miracles do exist. _ She places light kisses across the freckled bare skin showing from her sweater falling off her shoulder in the night. Chloe slowly starts to stir. 

“Mornin’” Chloe grumbles. 

“Good morning, Sunshine. Merry Christmas,” Beca whispers, still ghosting her lips across her shoulders. 

“Merry Christmas,” Chloe turns around to greet her good morning with a proper kiss. It doesn’t take long for it to deepen like the night before and this time Beca is the one to show restraint. “It’s only a couple of hours before you can go visit Bella. We could take showers and go eat Chinese food before you have to go. If--if you want to that is.” 

“Yeah, that sounds fun, Beca. How long were you going to be in Atlanta?”    
  
“For this visit, it was supposed to be until the New Year, but with Dad leaving, I don’t know.”

“You could stay here, you know if you wanted,” Chloe teases. 

“Are you sure you want that?” 

“You told me to let you prove it, so prove it,” Chloe says before smashing their lips together hungrily. Beca lets the kiss take over her entire body. Chloe only pulls away when Beca’s stomach rumbles. Both girls break out into a fit of giggles that tapers out as they make eye contact. “I’ll go make coffee and we can start getting ready,” Chloe declares as she tries to get up, but Beca pulls her back down for another kiss

“I don’t know if you know this, but umm Residual Heat has an Atlanta branch. Turns out LA isn’t as great as 18 year old me hoped it would be.” 

“Is that so?” Chloe hums, hovering inches above her lips. 

“Yeah, turns out Atlanta had what I wanted all along,” Beca allows herself to be shut up by Chloe kissing her.  _ Merry Christmas to me! I guess it isn’t so bad after all, if you have someone to spend it with.  _


End file.
